


The End of the Devil

by SherlockWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel True Forms, Apocalypse, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: As far as Dean was concerned, they’d been screwed from the start. Not only had Michael managed to worm his way over from the apocalypse world, but Lucifer had control of Heaven and had messed with the “angel settings”. As the Winchesters soon learned, that meant that angels could manifest their true forms on Earth.





	The End of the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda a season 13 what if...I just really wanted to write a true form war...also some of this is based on pictures I've found of true form Cas...

    As far as Dean was concerned, they’d been fucked from the start. Not only had Michael managed to worm his way over from the apocalypse world, but Lucifer had control of Heaven and had messed with the “angel settings”. As the Winchesters soon learned, that meant that angels could manifest their true forms on Earth.

    They had discovered this after Jack and Mary came home. They had all been in the bunker, searching through texts to find ways to kill archangels, because apparently not even archangels could kill one another. Fucking Gabriel. Dean still couldn’t believe that asshole hadn’t died. He’d never admit it aloud, but he was relieved to have the archangel back. Finally, they had a true advantage.

    There had been the sound of something utterly destroying the war room, and the family poured out of the library to find a beast smashed up against the walls and ceiling, grunting as it tried to shift its ridiculously sized body.

    The thing was terrifying to look at. Its body and limbs were gangly and cat like, with wrinkled silvery white skin and a neck that was disproportionately too long. Feathered crow-like wings sprouted from the joints of its shoulders, and feathers obscured its face from the family until the beast managed to wriggle its way around to stare at them. Its main face was ovular and had no mouth or nose, just a blank slate with two blue, pupil-less eyes that gazed at Dean all-knowingly. It had two other heads on either side of its neck: one an ocelot, the other a zebra, both with glowing blue eyes.

    If Gabriel and Jack hadn’t been there to identify the thing as Castiel, Dean knows he, Sam, and Mary would’ve tried to kill him.

    “Well, we’re fucked.” Gabriel had said, confirming Dean’s thoughts.

    Angels were hard to handle in vessels, but their true forms would be another story. The Winchesters and Co. were going to have to get serious if any of them were going to come out of apocalypse 2.0 alive.

~

    The battle had begun at night, in the middle of a Nevada desert.

    Lucifer and the Host against Michael and every soldier he’d brought from the apocalypse world. The Winchesters and Co. had arrived late, and for a while they watched the celestial battle unfold from the safety of nearby mountains.

    To anyone who didn’t know better, the event would sound and appear like a thunderstorm. Lightning flashed like paparazzi cameras, illuminating the night. The _slam_ of angelic bodies against one another cracked like bullwhips, echoing against the mountainside.

    From their perch, the Winchesters could see the angels’ true forms, their various heads and their beautiful wings. They could see angelic blood stain the sand red. They could see angels’ grace leak from wounds, or burn away if they were stabbed. Things were already bad.

    Even with all of his family by his side, Dean had little confidence that they could prevent this battle from turning their own world into that of the apocalypse. Castiel and Gabriel needed to convince the Host to turn against Lucifer once Michael was defeated. But first they had to kill Michael. And so, the family joined the fray.

    They executed their semblance of a plan. From afar, Kaia, Jack, and Rowena inflicted Michael’s army with various curses and spells, in hopes of either distracting or harming them. Dean didn’t like seeing the spell that Rowena had poisoned Cas with a few years ago in action again, but at least he knew it was damaging the enemy.

    Castiel and Gabriel attacked Michael’s soldiers from behind while Sam, Dean, Mary, Donna, Jody, and Claire made their way into the thick of it, ducking underneath flailing limbs and flapping wings. Inspired by the Bobby they’d met in apocalypse world, they had machine guns whose magazines were full of angel-killing bullets, melted down from angel blades.

    Once they started shooting, they weren’t able to stop. Michael’s soldiers were less than pleased to have humans as adversaries, especially ones protected by various magic. Their massive forms prevented them from avoiding any bullets, and soon they were falling, too many holes piercing their skin for them to heal while simultaneously battling the Host. Dean managed to avoid being crushed under them, but he had to help his friends and family dodge out of the way or be pulled out from under celestial bodies more than once.

    The only way to tell the angels apart was by their animal heads, so in order to avoid shooting “good” angels, the family remained as close to Cas and Gabe as they could. Thankfully there were enough species on Earth for no repeats to occur, so as long as Dean kept ocelots and zebras in his peripheral, he wouldn’t accidently hurt his own angel. It helped that Gabriel had eight wings, which was more than everyone but Michael and Lucifer.

    The few glimpses of Lucifer that Dean was able to catch sent chills of horror through his body. Lucifer wasn’t like the rest of the angels. His body wasn’t gangly but powerful, like a lion instead of a house cat. All eight of his scorched white wings were dotted with thousands of eyes that glinted fiery red in the lightning. His angel face was pointed instead of round, and his other three heads were that of a cassowary, a tiger, and a chimpanzee. All had eyes that matched those of his wings. Little spikes protruded all over Lucifer’s body, and unlike any other angel, he had a tail with a spiked ball at the end. It was the last two traits that Dean knew separated Lucifer as the Devil.

    Michael and Lucifer were locked in battle, deaf to anything else around them. They tore at each other relentlessly, each with blood pouring from their bodies like rivers.

    Dean was in the middle of shooting the underbelly of one of Michael’s soldiers when something went wrong. He watched out of the corner of his eye as a cursed angel, driven mad with bloodlust given to it by Rowena, slammed into Cas, sending him sprawling into the sand. A cloud of dust engulfed both angels, obscuring them from view.

    Dean couldn’t think as he barreled across the sand, leaving Sam behind to finish off the other angel. He had to get to Cas. As he got close, the two angels burst from the cloud like a scene straight out of _The Lion King,_ forearms locked in a fierce scramble for dominance. Dean crouched behind the body of a fallen angel and fired round after round into the enemy. A sick part of him reveled in the bellows of the beast as he and Cas tore it down.

    Cas scurried—as much as a gigantic thing _can_ scurry—over to Dean, actually knocking him over in his haste. Dean fell on his ass, hands instinctively reaching up and grabbing into the folds of Cas’ neck to slow his fall. His hands sunk into open flesh, and Cas whined as Dean let go. He was horrified to catch glimpses of his blood-soaked hand in the flashing light. Cas’ grace seeped out with his blood, mixing in glowing puddles beneath him. Blood dripped into Dean’s shirt from the angel’s body, hardening the fabric as it dried. The grace slid into Dean’s skin, healing his own cuts and bruises with sickening irony. Even when Castiel was dying, he was always helping Dean.

    _Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters. For you._

    Dean tried to stand to examine Cas’ wounds further, but the angel placed a hand on him that was at least the size of his torso and pressed him against the ground with a sharp hiss.

    “Let go.” Dean grunted, shoving at one of the angel’s fingers.

    Cas gripped harder and hissed louder. He wasn’t looking at Dean, which Dean only knew because his own face was directly underneath Cas’ angel one. Cas’ head swung back and forth, observing every movement of enemies and friends beyond Dean’s vision. Dean could see now that Cas’ zebra head was gone, ripped from its base. A severed spinal cord peaked out from flesh and muscle. Dean had to fight off a wave of nausea.

    The angel ignored every push Dean gave, focused on protecting him like an animal over its kill. After a few minutes Dean gave up and just watched Cas observe the fight. It was terrifying to see him behave this way. Castiel as Dean knew him was gone, and in his stead was a beast of raw power, fear, and fury. He was tense and poised as though ready to throw himself like a panther onto the next enemy. A panther who was protecting _him_.

    “Cas.” Dean whispered, completely lost in awe.

    The moment was lost when Castiel suddenly launched himself forward in a rush of wings and limbs. He’d been careful enough not to use the hand on Dean to propel himself. Dean rolled to his stomach in time to see Cas knocking an enemy angel to the ground. The battle still raged around them, and Dean wondered just how long Cas had spent hiding him from it.

    He got to his feet and decided to relocate Sam.

    His brother wasn’t hard to find. Sam, Donna, and Gabriel were battling one angel close to where Mary, Jody, and Claire were putting holes in another. Dean slid in alongside his brother, who gave him a quick smile in greeting. They went on like this a while longer, and Dean felt a certain kind of relief when he caught sight of Cas again.

    Eventually, their battle front joined with that of the Host. The rest of Michael’s soldiers fell, leaving Michael alone to battle Lucifer. The two were still locked in combat, ignorant to the state of things around them. The remaining angels formed a circle around the archangels, every eye intent on who would be the winner.

    Castiel and Gabriel worked their way through the Host, whispering to their brethren how imperative it was that they kill both Michael and Lucifer if the two did not destroy themselves. Muttering flowed through the crowd like wind as the angels debated over what to do without letting the combatants overhear them.

    Dean wondered if Michael and Lucifer would actually kill each other and save everyone else the trouble. It would be uncharacteristically kind of them.

    The huge form of an angle folded itself to the ground beside Dean, crouching as low as it could. It looked down at him, blue eyes searching his soul as they always had. Dean wished he could heal the gaping wounds that marked nearly every inch of his angel’s body. The most he could do was place a hand against the side of the angel’s true face and stroke a gentle thumb against the soft, silvery skin. Cas leaned into the touch, and Dean heard his ocelot head omit a quiet purr.

    And then, Michael fell.

    Lucifer beat his brother’s head into the ground until there was a brilliant flash of light, and the archangel died. The other angels watched as the defeated form of the imposter sagged into the Earth. Then all eyes trained on Lucifer.

    The Devil didn’t take long to spot Gabriel. He snarled at him in Enochian, and Dean was surprised when Gabriel shot back rather than cower. He’d changed in the eight years since Dean and Sam had last seen him: he was brave.

    Lucifer howled something to the Host, and when he was met with silence, he whirled around, glaring at each angel before training all of his eyes on Gabriel. More words were exchanged, and Dean felt the atmosphere tense as angels shifted their wings and clawed at the ground. With a nod to his family, each of the Winchesters made sure their guns were cocked and loaded. They couldn’t kill Lucifer with these bullets, but they could distract him.

    Lucifer turned to pace, and one of his eyes caught sight of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. More of his eyes turned to stare at the trio, until the Devil himself gazed at them with utter hatred.

    There was a pause where no one dared breathe, then Lucifer whipped around and slashed out at _the Winchesters._ The humans scuttled back into the ranks of the angels. But instead of shield them, the angels hurried to expose them. None wanted to feel Lucifer’s wrath, even though they were going to kill him.

    None except Cas.

    Castiel rose to meet Lucifer, all six of his wings balancing him on his hind legs so that he could tower above his enemy. Grace and blood slushed at the angel’s feet, yet the power of him was not diminished by the state of his body. Castiel had served as a vessel to Lucifer. They were an even match.

    The two collided with the sound of an explosion, and within seconds Cas was joined by Gabriel and many other angels. They dragged Lucifer into the sand, creating a windstorm around them as they shredded the Devil to pieces.

    Dean grabbed Sam’s jacket, and with waving arms and shouts of fear, the family raced for the mountain where Jack, Rowena, and Kaia had spent the battle inflicting angels. As they climbed, Dean cast glances over his shoulder, hoping to spot Cas in the mess of wings and celestial bodies.

    He never did.

    When the dust finally settled, the Winchesters and their family watched in the greying morning light as the Host rose into the sky, leaving Lucifer’s beaten body in the sand. Only a handful of angels remained behind, Gabriel’s eight winged form among them.

    As the sun climbed high enough in the sky to illuminate the desert, the spoils of war became visible from the hills. Angelic bodies cast shadows across the land, littering the landscape with blood still oozing from their graceless forms. Gabriel and those who remained behind made their way through the bodies, sifting through those angels who were of this world rather than that of the apocalypse. When they came upon one of their own, all of them would descend upon it like vultures. Instead of ripping up the carcasses for a meal, though, the angels seemed to kiss it with their mouthless faces, and the body would disappear. Once they were satisfied that every member of the Host was accounted for, all but two angels rose into the sky.

    One was Gabriel, and one had a missing head.

    Cas had made it.

     

 

 

 

   


End file.
